Angel of Mercy
by PersianFreak
Summary: Set after Dead and Gone. Sookie gives Eric an ultimatum.
1. Chapter 1

_**Angel of Mercy**_** by PersianFreak**

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Charlaine Harris. Please don't sue.

Spoilers: All 9 books.

Rating: M

A/N: This fic was inspired by an exchange between Pam and Sookie in _All Together Dead_, which I moved up to after _Dead and Gone_ in this story; that is the italicized bit in the beginning.

As is typical, the first chapter is very short, so let me know what you think.

PS I know, I know, "Go finish OMDB/No Choice/In Another Life". I'm going, I'm going.

* * *

Angel of mercy,

How did you find me,

How did you pick me up again?

Angel of mercy,

How did you move me,

Why am I on my feet again?

~"Mercy" by OneRepublic

***

_ "So the bottom line is, you're really loyal to Eric, and you want me to know that neither of you knew that Bill had a hidden agenda when he came to Bon Temps." Pam nodded. "So, you came here tonight to...?"_

_ "To ask you to have mercy on Eric."_

I laughed. I couldn't help it; it was just too much that _Pam_ was asking _me_ to have mercy on _Eric_. What was the world coming to? I laughed harder, though I was suddenly aware of how deranged I must have seemed to Pam. I could practically hear her thinking that the fairies had gone too far with the torture, and suddenly things weren't so funny anymore.

"You're wrong, Pam," I told her quietly, wrapping my gran's old afghan tighter around me: there was a cool breeze now blowing, and the way it played with her hair made Pam look even more lovely. "He's not the one who needs mercy; I am."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I looked up at the man suddenly standing in front of us and smirked.

"Well, hello. I was starting to think you were just going to hide in the woods all night." I had felt Eric nearby for nearly as long as Pam had been sitting on my porch with me. He looked good, I noted sadly. He knew what looked good on him, and that night it happened to be old army boots, dark jeans, white t-shirt and his black leather jacket.

"Pam, leave us," he ordered and Pam disappeared just like that.

"We were talking," I complained.

"You can talk later." He replied dismissively, "Now answer the question."

I huffed in annoyance and ignored him, making my way inside in the vain hope that he wouldn't follow me. Except that this was Eric, and he wasn't good at taking hints like that.

"Eric, get out." I poured myself some decaffeinated coffee.

"Are you going to rescind my invitation?" He mocked.

"Are you going to make me?" I glared at him, letting him see that I was quite serious. "Eric, I'm tired and my entire body hurts and all I want is to just go to bed, alright? So, please-"

"Where is your roommate?"

I gave him a hard look, "Not that it's any of your fucking business, but she left this morning. Went back to New Orleans."

Eric actually looked surprised, "Why?"

"Because her boyfriend died, Eric!" I snapped, the force of my anger surprising both of us. "It was too hard for her to live with the woman who was the cause of Tray's death; I understood that."

"Did she say that to you?" He asked, anger flashing in his eyes before he hid it from me. Not from the bond, though.

"Telepath, remember?" I tapped my temple tiredly and sat down at my kitchen table. "I'm alone again. I guess it's for the best."

"You're not alone," he cocked his head to the side, though he was still standing by the kitchen door.

"Eric, please just leave."

"I can stay," he argued smoothly.

"I don't want you to!"

"You don't want me?" He quirked one brow, and I wished that he would just drop the facade. Just... drop it. I was too tired; too damaged to keep on playing this game with him. I wanted him to be gone so I could crawl under my covers and pretend that the scars didn't exist; not on my body, and not on my psyche.

"I want you to make up your damned mind," I told him, my voice just barely controlled, "because I'm tired of you always just floating in the periphery of my life. I'm tired of you making these grand gestures that make me feel like I mean something to you, and then disappearing without a word for weeks at a time. I'm so tired, Eric. I just don't have the energy to deal with you, not anymore. So I need you to make up your mind and stick with it, because this dysfunctional thing we have going is not going to work for me anymore." I looked at him and remembered what it had felt like to be with Eric. Not have sex with Eric (though that was great), but _be_ with him the way I had when he had lost his memory. He had been warm and kind and loving and... not Eric. What had made me believe that I could have that Eric back? How could I have been so foolish? The man in front of me was an ancient among ancients; he had survived far longer than I could possibly fathom, and he had seen and done far more than I would have liked to imagine, so what had made me think that he could be... mine? What had made me _want_ him to be mine? The loyalty and kindness he had shown me on occasion did not set him apart; Sam, for example, had been a much better friend to me, and he had proved his loyalty to me many times. Why not Sam? Or why not Bill, for that matter? The man almost got himself killed because of me, for crying out loud. Why couldn't I find it in me to love him again? I stopped myself before I brought up how Eric had always seemed to _get_ me. That was not a good enough reason to love a thousand-year-old vampire. Speaking of the thousand-year-old vampire, I was reminded that he was still not speaking. Not a single word. He was just standing there, calmly regarding me while the bond remained suspiciously empty.

He had shut down the bond. Alright, then.

"So come back when you've made up your mind, Eric." I dumped the coffee into the sink and headed for my bedroom. "Oh, and Eric?"

"Yes?" He turned, politely looking at me.

"I rescind your invitation."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Angel of Mercy**_** by PersianFreak**

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Charlaine Harris. Please don't sue.

Spoilers: All 9 books.

Rating: M

A/N: So sorry about the long wait. I've been so busy and I'm just slowly catching up with all my ongoing stories. I don't know how much is left in this story; it's likely that I'll only write another chapter.

Reviews are very much appreciated =]

* * *

_I just want to know today, know today, know today,_

_Know that maybe I will be okay._

_Open me up and you will see,_

_I'm a gallery of broken hearts._

_I'm beyond repair, let me be,_

_And give me back my broken parts._

~ "Be OK" by Ingrid Michaelson

***

"Gee, Sookie, it was so nice of you to listen to me and actually be nice to Eric," Pam all but seethed over the phone the next night, "It really made my life so much easier that you pissed him off."

"Pam," I sighed, "Come on, what do you want me to do? Accept that he wants me to be his plaything? I'm not going to do that. That's just too much."

She scoffed, "For a telepath, you really have no insight into the minds of others."

"I can't read his mind," I pointed out.

"That shouldn't stop you. You know him better than any other human. And you're blood-bound."

I sighed again and rubbed my temple, "Is that all, Pam? I need to go work." Pam made a frustrated noise and hung up on me, leaving me listening to the dial tone as I shook myself and grabbed my coat on my way out of the door.

It had taken practically forever for me to convince Sam that I was well enough to work, and he still didn't believe me. To be honest, I didn't believe it myself but there was nothing for me to do at home, and now with Amelia gone I needed distractions more than ever. I was on probation, so to speak, which meant that Sam had made my section tiny so as to avoid things getting too hectic for me. Plus, he was going to force me to take regular breaks. All in all, I was quite sure that I was doing little to actually help out, but Sam was doing his best to make me feel needed and for that I was grateful. Merlotte's was pretty busy that night, and I struggled to maintain a mindblock that kept out all the thoughts the bar patrons were practically hurling at me. Still, I was intent to just grin and bear it; I could do it. Just focus on the details, Sookie. Fries with a side of jalapenos. A pitcher of beer. Burger basket, hold the onions... _"Sweet Jesus, she looks more nuts than usual..." _Chicken strips, with or without fries? I tried to remember. Had Andy ordered a side salad instead? That didn't seem like him, but still... _"I wonder if she's gonna cry; she sure looks it."_ _"I wonder if she wears leggings under her shorts to hide the scars..." _I should just go ask him. He'll be mighty unhappy, but it'll be better than... _"She used to be so hot, and now she always looks like somebody killed her cat. Oh, I guess they did..."_ I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed, just prayed for _something_ to happen. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed just for a little while longer, everybody would have disappeared by the time I opened them. When I finally did, I was shocked to find Eric walking in and quietly sitting in my section. Puzzled, I walked over to him.

"What are you doing here?" My voice was a faint whisper, but he heard me anyway.

Reaching out to grasp my hand, he looked up at me, "Focus on me. Focus on my mind, Sookie." My shock quickly replaced with gratitude, I closed my eyes again and did as he told me. Sighing in relief at the beautiful silence of his mind, I opened my eyes and smiled at him.

"Thank you." He inclined his head. "Do you- Can I get you a True Blood?"

"O-negative?"

"Coming right up."

"Take your time," he gave me a tight-lipped smile, "I'm going to be here a while." I nodded and hurried to fill my other orders, my now-relaxed mind making blocking other people's thoughts much easier. I grinned at Sam when he filled my drink orders and he smiled back, nodding his head to acknowledge how well I was doing. For the rest of the night, I'd brush past Eric or grab his hand whenever the thoughts became too much and would immediately feel better. I noticed he wasn't doing anything other than watch me, though. He didn't even speak to me; just sat quietly and drank his True Blood, asking me to bring him another one whenever I got the chance, and I began to wonder if maybe I had been too harsh on him. As far as I could tell, Eric had abandoned Fangtasia for the night just to sit in Merlotte's and help me clear my mind. He must be bored stiff, I thought to myself and felt a pang of guilt.

"Eric, go home," I whispered during a lull in the crowd.

"I will when you're feeling better," he nodded.

"Come on, I feel bad with you sitting here bored out of your skull." I sat across from him.

"You feel bad?" He raised a brow, "Interesting."

I sighed, catching sight of one of my tables looking at me pointedly, "I have to go." Eric calmly sipped his True Blood and I continued working. He didn't move from his seat, not once, until about closing time when he slipped out of the door wordlessly, leaving me a generous tip.

"What's up with Eric?" Sam asked me quietly as I was gathering my things.

"I rescinded his invitation to my house," I bit my lip, torn between pride and guilt.

"Go, Sookie!" Sam looked impressed and I had to laugh.

"Thanks. It was sweet of him to show up tonight, though." I mused, putting on my coat.

"You looked like you were having a tough time," Sam agreed, "I was about to make you go home."

"I'm glad you didn't," I smiled, "I would have gone crazy just sitting at home." I said good-bye to Sam and hurried out, fully expecting to find Eric waiting for me in the parking, and when I saw he wasn't, I looked for him around my house, only to be disappointed once again. Once inside, I rummaged around for some left-over meatloaf and heated it for myself, sitting down at the kitchen table once I had fixed a salad as a side. It was too quiet, I realized. Everything was just too damned quiet. I pushed away the plate of food and buried my face in my hands and pretended that I could hear Amelia moving upstairs, or Bill padding around my house, or maybe the radio playing some tired old ballad.

"Fuck it," I covered the food with another plate and headed out again, this time on foot. It wasn't until I was at his doorstep that I realized it was almost three in the morning and that there was no reason why Bill would be inside. "Fuck it," I repeated and knocked. Bill opened the door and stood there for a moment, just taking in the sight of me. I was suddenly feeling self-conscious: I hadn't showered or changed out of my work clothes, my hair was still up in a ponytail and I probably looked terrible. I always looked terrible lately, but more so in the middle of the night. Bill looked good, though. Well, better than before. He still looked rather gaunt, but his eyes no longer had that look in them like he was looking but not quite seeing. He had taken weeks to heal, first under the strict supervision of Dr Ludwig and later when he went to ground, not emerging until just a few days ago when he had dropped by to visit me.

"Hi, Bill," I smiled, or tried to anyways.

"Sookie," he inclined his head politely and I felt my eyes fill with tears.

"Can we just be friends tonight, Bill?" Was I begging? It sounded like begging. My voice was thick with grief and Bill looked shocked, but I hadn't let myself shed a tear since _that night_. "I know it's way too much to expect, after all you've done for me, but please?" He nodded and pulled me into his arms, letting me press myself against the body of the first man I had ever loved, and I found myself thanking the lord that I had him.

***

I woke up in Bill's bed.

Oh, sweet Jesus, _no_.

I sat up fast enough to get dizzy, looking down before the dark swirls in my vision had fully cleared: I was fully dressed, still in my work clothes. Oh, okay, then. I glanced around the bedroom, taking in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. My watch told me it was almost noon, which was easily explained by the fact that Bill and I had stayed up late, watching sitcom after sitcom on his high definition television until I had fallen asleep, which is when I'm guessing Bill had moved me to his bed before going to ground or hiding in some light-proof closet somewhere in his house. I clambered out of the bed and fixed up the sheets and the comforter, fully planning on not leaving any trace of me when I left. I was home less than ten minutes later, in the shower not long after that. It wasn't until much later in the afternoon that I noticed the rose tucked under the wiper blade of my car along with a piece of paper bearing the letter "E".

Fuck.

I threw the rose into the trash, the piece of paper already shredded and abandoned in the dirt outside. He hadn't made his choice; he hadn't come to find me, though the bond had no doubt told him where I was and what I was feeling (thus ruling out the possibility of me staying at Bill's for any romantic reasons that would have caused Eric to stay away). The sentiment, despite being touching, was unnecessary and somewhat unwelcome in my current state of mind.

Fuck him. Let him fucking come find me. These touching gestures were the exact ones I had been talking about; these were the ones that softened my heart until it was broken a little bit all over again when he disappeared.

Fuck him.

I had work to get to.

My anger had strengthened my resolve enough that I had no difficulties blocking the thoughts of others as I worked. I was tired, and it was harder than before to remember people's orders, but a notepad and pencil solved that problem and by the time the dinner crowd started pouring in, I had found my groove. I went home that night feeling like I had accomplished something; like after months of being a useless presence I had finally climbed back into the position of being a productive member of society, and I liked it. I parked my car well inside the circle of light emanating from the solitary lamp hanging above my back porch and all but hopped out, freezing mid-step when I saw Eric sitting on the railing. I was fleetingly impressed with the railing for bearing his weight: just more proof that this old house was sturdier than it looked.

"Hey," I called when Eric didn't acknowledge me. His head was leaned back against the house, one knee bent so that his arm could rest on it while the other foot rested on the porch. The moonlight cast eerie shadows on his face and when he opened his eyes, it made their colour appear grey.

"Hello, lover." He was in front of me all of a sudden, quickly bending down to give me a small kiss on the lips. His lips were more inviting than I would have liked to admit to myself and I stepped around him to reach my house and let myself in. "Sookie." His voice was carefully even, and I required no assistance from the bond to know what he was saying. He was telling me that he had not appreciated the annulment of his invitation to my house, but that he had let it go on account of my condition. He was saying that he was doing his best, and that I had to meet him halfway by inviting him in; that ignoring him and sending him away would mean the last I ever saw of him. I closed my eyes.

"Eric, would you like to come in?" I whispered without turning back to face him.

"Thank you," I heard him step inside and close the door behind him. I opened my eyes and headed to the kitchen.

"Would you like a True Blood?"

"No, thank you." I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed to the living room, but I was mostly stalling and he knew it.

"Have a seat." I claimed one end of the couch but he remained standing, studying me with his arms crossed over his chest. "What?" I asked tiredly.

"I'm not going to tell you I love you." Direct. That'll work, I decided.

"I never asked you to."

"Most women want to hear that." He retorted.

"I'm not saying I'm opposed to it," I smiled, "but I never asked you to tell me you loved me."

"And I'm not going to tell you that I can't live without you or anything foolish like that," he continued, his blue eyes hard, and I felt a small part of myself deflate in disappointment though I really shouldn't have expected that in the first place.

"I know you don't need me," I muttered quietly and he continued.

"But I will do everything in my power to continue to protect you."

"Like you did when the fairies had me?" slipped out before I could stop myself and his eyes softened ever so slightly.

"That wasn't my fault."

"Hey, I didn't ask you to be my fucking guardian angel, you volunteered."

"And failed?" He finished for me and I chuckled.

"I don't know. Depends on your definition of 'fail', I guess. I'm still alive." I sat cross-legged on the couch cushions and saw his eyes flick down to the juncture of my legs before returning to my eyes. I met his gaze defiantly, not at all self-conscious thanks to the opaque leggings covering everything my tiny shorts didn't down to my calves. "And you do love me." Eric frowned and opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off. "Even though you say you don't. I mean, you're a thousand years old, Eric; no vampire at your age would work so hard to keep a human like me alive. Blood bond, marriage..." I shook my head, "And before you say it's because I'm a telepath, I'm going to remind you that I don't even work for you whenever you want me to. I make you regret asking me for help every time, and you should have killed me a long time ago, so don't tell me it's because of that."

"Then you love me too," he pointed out. "Or you could have easily made my life very hard, with all the power I have given you over me."

"Harder than I already have?" I smiled bitterly and he nodded with a slight chuckle. "Maybe. But you still need to make a decision; you need to be here or not. There can be no middle ground." Eric paused before taking a seat next to me on the couch, and I felt something inside of me unclench. "I'm not going to share you, Eric." I told him softly and watched for his reaction.

"Likewise," was his calm response.

"And I don't care if you drink from other people as long as they're not people I care about. And as long as I don't have to... witness it."

He inclined his head, "Understood."

"And I'm going to need some time before... y'know," I gestured at the empty space between us and blushed.

He took that at face value, "Anything else?"

I chose my words carefully, "At some point, I need to know where you were that night." There was a long silence and I practically felt him shut down. "You told me you would explain."

"There is no need for you to know."

"That's not acceptable."

"Well, it will have to suffice." His gaze was calm and detached, and it made something in me crack. Burying my face in my hands, I turned away from him. My name fell from his lips in surprise at the wave of sadness I had released into the bond and I jumped up from my seat, hurrying towards my bathroom but twirling around to face him when I realized he was following me.

"Go away, Eric." My voice shook but I met his gaze steadily, "Get out of my house."

"Fuck, Sookie, not this again." Eric groaned in frustration, "Are you going to rescind my invitation?"

"Why not just tell me? How..." I looked around helplessly but then my eyes found his and I locked onto them.

Eric ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face, "Why does it matter, Sookie? Why does there have to be a _fucking_ reason why Compton had to be the one to save you?" I stepped close to him.

"Because this – you not showing up – is an anomaly. You were always there, _always_." I chuckled, "In Dallas, in Jackson, New Orleans, Rhodes... You saved me from Mickey and de Castro and werewolves and God knows how many others. Hell, you were there last night when I needed you. " I rested my hand lightly on the side of his face and he jolted the slightest bit at the touch of my hand. "You either couldn't come or you didn't want to because you were doing something more important. Either way, I need to know."

"Well, I wasn't doing something more important." He offered but didn't continue.

"Please tell me, Eric. _Please_." My voice broke, tears streaming down my face. He removed my hand from his face before finally speaking.

"I was enduring the punishment I earned myself by marrying you." He told me quietly.

"What?" I gasped.

Eric smiled, "De Castro may not be able to touch you, but I am well within his reach."

My voice was quiet when I asked him, "Eric, what did he do to you?"

"Nothing that made me regret my decision," was his calm reassurance.

"Did he hurt you?" Eric shrugged dismissively. "Eric, what did he _do_?" He studied me, gauging my mood and my conviction before holding out his hand. I shot him an uncertain look before looking down at his hand, bringing it closer to see it more clearly. I frowned, for his hand seemed perfectly fine to me until I turned both of our bodies so the hall light would illuminate his hand more clearly, allowing me to see the faint, fading line at the base of his index finger. I gasped and quickly moved on to the other fingers, finding a similar line at the base of his thumb, right over the joint. "_Ohmigod_." I breathed and took his other hand, finding the matching lines on the index and thumb of his left hand. "He cut- He cut your fingers..." The vampire was still watching me wordlessly, watching the horror take hold. "He can't do that. He can't do that just because you _married _me!"

"Officially, he did it because he found evidence that I was holding out on him. Financially." Eric smirked, "It was all bullshit, but it served his purpose." That was enough for me, I decided as I bolted for the bathroom and fell to my knees in front of the toilet, returning whatever was in my stomach which was thankfully very little. Fully aware of Eric leaning against the door, I slumped against the cabinet and looked up at him, tears streaming down my face even when I struggled to stand to brush my teeth. He handed me a washcloth to dry my face when I was done and stroked the line of my jaw.

"It's alright." He was cupping my face now, tears still streaming down.

"It's _not_ alright." I seethed, "He hurt you. He _dismembered_ you because you married me."

"And I will get revenge for that, I assure you." Something violent flashed in his eyes, "But it's nothing for you to worry about."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he pulled me close and I rested my head against the base of his neck and tried to suppress a sob.

"I'm sorry I blamed you for not being there." I continued miserably.

"_I_ blame me for not being there, Sookie."

"But you shouldn't. Not anymore, okay?" He murmured in agreement, though he didn't sound very convinced, and I figured that was enough for the time being. "Are you okay now?" He pulled back and gave me a look that said "I look okay, don't I?" and I nodded. I returned to my earlier position with my head resting against his shoulder; he felt good to me. He felt solid and safe, and when he carefully put his arms around me I sighed and closed my eyes, revelling in the silence of his mind.

"You were at Compton's last night."

"And you came here." It wasn't a question and I took his silence as confirmation. "Why didn't you come find me?"

"You rescinded my invitation," he pointed out. "And he's your... friend. I owe him for saving you."

"So you figured you wouldn't show up at his house and piss him off?" He didn't say anything but then again he didn't have to, thanks to the bond we shared. "Thank you for that." My vampire inclined his head and tilting my head back, I reached up to tentatively to tuck his hair behind his ear.

"You are very touchy-feely," he observed playfully.

"Yeah I am, get used to it."

"I think I can." His eyes flicked down to my inner arm and he frowned, my eyes following his to see one of the many scars my body now sported. I dropped my arm to hide the mark but he reached down to the hem of my shirt and began sliding it up, my hands stopping his. "Let me see, Sookie." I whimpered a little bit and he leaned down to press his lips to mine, "Trust me." I was shaking as I made another desperate sound but he levelled me with his blue eyes and I gave in, holding my breath as he removed my shirt. He tilted his head, his fingers almost reverently brushing over the scars. My eyes were trained on his face, watching his jaw tighten as his mild anger rose to a full-blown rage that he struggled to keep controlled. I couldn't move, or I would have stopped him when he unbuttoned my shorts and slid off my leggings, dropping to his knees to take in the continued violence that my body had endured. His hands rose to my panties and I stopped him.

"You've seen enough," I decided, stepping out of his reach and hurrying towards my bathroom. I locked myself in, busying myself with my bedtime routine before returning to my room to dress in a long-sleeved shirt and baggy sweatpants. No longer vulnerable, I faced Eric once more. Moving slowly, he covered the distance between us and leaned down to capture my lips. My body pressed against his of its own accord and the edges of my mind went fuzzy in happiness when he hooked an arm around my waist and the other hand tangled in my hair. His lips moved down to my neck, trailing kisses when I broke the kiss to swallow a lungful of air. Arms encircling his shoulders, I turned my head and his lips returned to mine obediently. There was something warm and familiar about the taste of his lips, something that let me sink until my entire consciousness had been reduced to the movement of my mouth against his. When the kiss ended neither one of us released the other and we stood there, Eric straightening and lifting me up with him.

"Eric," I giggled and he pressed a strangely tender kiss into my neck. Taking a small step back once my feet were back on the ground, I looked up at him and tried to identify his expression. This was a new look for him, possessiveness and tenderness and, if I let myself believe it, maybe even love all mixed together. The look was fleeting, however, and I stepped into his arms again, intent on cherishing every moment of this rare affectionate mood of Eric's.

"You smell good," I sighed with a smile and then yawned. I was delighted when he chose to stay with me when I had gotten into bed and I slid into his arms happily. I fell asleep feeling his cool lips on my warm skin.

***

I woke early the next day, a strange peace blanketing the chaos that had bubbled inside of me ever since my kidnapping. I thought about Eric as I made myself breakfast, the strange tenderness he had shown the previous night. My hand brushed the placed on my stomach his hands had skimmed over as he'd taken inventory of my injuries and I smiled to myself absently, leaning against the counter as I waited for the toast to be ready. I had been so terrified of his reaction, so afraid that he would recoil from me and that he would leave me. How had this happened? How had I become so fragile?

Well, I knew how. It didn't take a genius to understand why I had become so self-conscious, but I wondered how Eric had come to be the one to strip away my insecurities. I had been testing him when I had said I knew he loved me; I had expected him to shoot me down, to dismiss me with an upward twist of his lips, but instead he had called my bluff. The worst part was that I wasn't sure if I wanted him to be right. Not loving him would have been easier, no doubt, but there was something so sweet in being in love with him that I almost didn't mind it. He was a terrifying vampire, a sheriff wielding more power and possessing more experience than I could fathom. I should have been horrified, shrieking as I ran away from him instead of letting him kiss me, instead of letting him hold me.

"Sookie Stackhouse, what have you done?" I groaned, sinking down into a chair at my dining table. My phone started ringing and I rose slowly to answer it.

"Hey, Sook," came Amelia's tired voice.

"Amelia! Hi!" I beamed. "Where are you?"

My friend chuckled at my enthusiasm, "New Orleans."

"Tell me everything!" Amelia told me that she was staying with a friend for a while, supervising the repairs to her apartment and I told her about Eric. I had missed Amelia more than I had realized and I found it extremely comforting to be speaking to a human who didn't judge me. Even though the conversation lasted no longer than twenty minutes, by the time I hung up I was feeling considerably more optimistic. I had an off day, something that Sam had fought very hard to achieve, and so I did what I always resorted to in order to keep myself busy: I cleaned. I washed the curtains and scrubbed the counters, cleaned the bathrooms and vacuumed all the rugs. I barely took a break, skipping lunch so I could continue my work. My efficiency paid off because I was done by five, when I all but passed out on my bed, awakening when the sun had already set. Feeling fully refreshed, I opted for a shower before dinner. I studied my body once under the hot stream, really looking for the first time since my ordeal. Eric's reaction had given me new perspective and I looked at my damaged body more forgivingly. I had assumed him far shallower than he truly was; I had underestimated the depth of his feelings for me. And while the shiny pink marks covering my body had healed remarkably well thanks to Eric's blood, their existence still could not be denied. I pressed a thumb into a thin line on my thigh and thought that it was practically invisible under the glow of the bathroom lamp. I washed up and dressed myself quickly after that, slipping on a long-sleeved red v-neck and skinny jeans before grabbing my purse and car keys. My black ballet flats were the finishing touch before I hopped into my car and headed to Shreveport. I parked behind the bar but walked to the front entrance, bypassing the line-up and ignoring the annoyed calls of the people waiting to get in.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite telepath," Pam grinned at me, her fangs sending an unnecessary shiver down my spine.

I tried to smile, "Hey Pam, is he in there?"

Pam nodded, "Why so anxious? This anxiety isn't good for you."

I smirked at her Dear Abby attitude and held out the cover charge which she refused before I headed inside. Eric was watching the door, so it took less than a second for our eyes to meet through the ocean of people. I made my way through the crowd easily, catching his one quirked brow when I stepped over the fangbangers grovelling at his feet. Dressed in a black dress shirt and black dress pants, Eric was the perfect cherry on top of every sexual fantasy I could ever have, and he only had eyes for me.

"Hello lover," he greeted. "What brings-" Eric never got to finish that thought because I grabbed the collar of his expensive shirt and brought his mouth crashing down on mine. My mind exploded with the thoughts of every human soul in the bar, but I focused it on Eric's and kept on kissing him, smiling when he pulled me closer. The air rushed by me and we were in Eric's office, still kissing.

"Is the offer to see your house still standing?" I asked in between kisses.

"Yes."

We took Eric's car to his house, the Corvette winding through the darkened streets of Shreveport as the lots got bigger and bigger and the houses more and more luxurious.

"Jesus, this is where you live?" I asked at the electronic gate that slid open at the press of a button attached to Eric's keychain. The gravel driveway was lined with old evergreen trees that concealed every turn of the road until we reached the two-story colonial. "_This_ is where you live?" The house in front of me was tiny in proportion to the land, though still much larger than my house.

"Don't sound so impressed," Eric laughed.

"No! I mean, you have a whole meadow and I just assumed- I mean, I thought you would be living in a mansion or something." I stumbled over my words and then blushed. Eric chuckled but seemed to understand what I was getting at. "I mean, you drive a cherry-red Corvette." I mumbled as he opened the car door for me and led me to his front door.

"I don't need much in a house," he told me and opened the door. The inside of Eric's house was decked out in leather and fur, though it somehow worked. It looked... cozy, and I told Eric so, making him laugh out loud. There was a sitting room holding a large brown leather couch and a fur rug in front of the fireplace, above which an ancient shield was hung. I smiled at Eric and kept on studying the room. "What?"

"This, I did expect." He gave me a questioning look and I explained, "The masculine decor, the weaponry on the walls." I gestured at the two broadswords crossing each other over the flat-screen TV screwed to the wall.

"I like my furniture," he defended. I smiled and followed him to the similarly-decorated kitchen and then to the matching dining room, which completed the circle of the first floor and brought us back to the front door and the stairs leading upstairs.

"Are you going to show me your bedroom?" I asked.

"Do you _want_ to see my bedroom?"

I hesitated, "Maybe. I'm... not sure if..." I blushed and looked down.

"Well, don't you think highly of yourself."

I burst out laughing in shock, "What?

Eric looked down at me with an unimpressed expression, "Who said I'm ready to have sex with you? I want our first time to be special." He sniffed for added effect and I bit back more laughter as I softened.

"Right. Okay. Show me the rest of your house."

He nodded up the stairs, "It's just a couple of bedrooms up there. I don't use any of them, but they are light-tight."

"Why have them?"

"A diversion," Eric shrugged. "The master bedroom looks like I use it, but I don't."

"Smart," I smiled. "So where do you actually sleep?" Eric gave me a long look before leading me into the hallway that directly connected the front door to the kitchen. He opened what appeared to be a closet under the stairs and pulled me inside, closing the door behind us. "Are you trying to get me to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with you?" I asked in the darkness.

"Lover, I can show you much longer than just 7 minutes in heaven, but I have a feeling that is not what you're referring to."

I snorted, "It's not. Nevermind." Eric made an unhappy sound and reached around me to press what I assumed was a combination of buttons because the back panel slid open to reveal a well-lit set of stairs leading down. "Alright then, Phantom."

"Stop making references I don't understand," Eric frowned and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Less girls, more TV."

"The television is not nearly as responsive as a woman," he teased and motioned at me to follow him down. Eric's bed was the main attraction of the room downstairs. It was a four-poster California King-sized monstrosity decked out in cranberry-red. Actually, red appeared to be the theme of the whole room, right down to the glass door of the fridge in the corner revealing the countless red bottles. There was a bookshelf embedded into the wall across from the doors that I could tell led to a spacious bathroom and an even more impressive walk-in closet.

"So much clothes!" Eric shrugged and nudged me into the impressive bathroom. "Jacuzzi tub, glass shower, colour me surprised." I muttered and Eric rewarded me with a grin.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, lover." I scoffed at him and he continued, "If it makes you feel any better, you are free to use my bathroom as often as you like."

I smiled, "Did you just issue me an open invitation to your house?"

Eric regarded me quietly, "Yes." I didn't have to be told what an honour it was to not only be brought into Eric's house, but to be given his permission to return freely. I inclined my head, looking up to find him much closer than I had anticipated. His arms locked around my waist and he lifted me up easily, setting me down on the edge of his bed and kneeling in front of me.

"You kissed me in front of all of Fangtasia," he mused. "That was very brave."

"Brave, why?"

"The fangbangers were all ready to rip your throat out," he smiled.

I shrugged, "I felt like kissing you. So I kissed you."

"You felt like kissing me?" He asked with a teasing hint to the smile on his lips, "What else do you feel like doing tonight, Sookie?"

"I feel like... telling you to make love to me." I admitted softly, "But I'm afraid." I felt light-headed from the weight of my own confession. Had I just confessed my fear?

"Why?" His hands were resting on my thighs, his thumbs brushing back and forth on my legs.

"Because I'm damaged," I laughed but tears were falling from my eyes.

"No."

I looked away, laughing again, "And not just physically. Even my mind is damaged; look how many times I've cried in the past two days, over _nothing_."

"Sookie, you're perfect," he argued.

"Don't bullshit me, Eric. You of all people..."

"I never lie to you, Sookie. I never have." I closed my eyes because it hurt too much to see the open look in his eyes. "And I still want you." He added and bent down to kiss my stomach. "I've wanted you since I laid eyes on you. That hasn't changed, lover."

"Why?"

"Why do I want you?" He laughed.

I shrugged, "Yeah. I don't- I mean, I'm pretty but I'm not _that_ pretty. And... I don't understand you. I've never wanted to read your mind, because you are you and you've lived for a thousand years, but right now I would give pretty much anything to understand _why_ you're doing this."

"You _are_ that pretty, lover," Eric told me quite seriously and I scoffed.

"Even with all the scars?" I challenged.

"I've lived a thousand years, Sookie. I'm not that shallow." There was a hard edge to his voice that I ignored.

"Well, that certainly goes against your past choices in partners."

"Don't consider yourself on the same level as other women I have slept with." He snapped and I shrunk back, something that was not lost on him because he reached to stroke my hair back from my face in silent apology. When I didn't recoil from his touch, he kissed me. My shaky fingers began unbuttoning his shirt and I pushed it off of his shoulders, but he stopped me. "You don't have to." This was a first. Eric had always toed the line when it came to consensual sex. Not that he had ever forced me into doing something I didn't want to do, but he had never gone for the innocent I-don't-want-to-pressure-you angle either. He had always kissed me until I had pushed him away or given in entirely. Not once had he seemed hesitant about having sex with me and I fleetingly worried it was because a part of him really didn't want to, but I dismissed that notion before it could take over.

"I want to," I said, moving back to the centre of the bed when he stood up to slide off his pants, leaving him in boxer-briefs. I was grateful that he wasn't naked yet, because there was a part of me that was freaking out, screaming at the rest of me for even considering making myself so vulnerable to Eric. He kneeled between my legs and relieved me of my shirt, every move calculated and slow to allow me to get used to the idea of it. I bit my lip and realized that I was actually shaking.

"It's okay," he murmured, kissing my temple and my jaw before moving down to my collarbone. His fingers began working on my jeans and I lifted my hips, letting him slide them off completely. Dabbling at the waistband of my panties, he claimed my mouth again, his tongue exploring my mouth. I made a small noise and he pushed me back, settling himself between my legs as we continued kissing until I was no longer shaking. Eric rolled us both over and then sat up so that I was sitting in his lap while his fingers expertly undid my bra hooks and removed it entirely.

"Eric?" I breathed.

"Yes?"

"We're wearing too much clothing for this to work," I smiled against his lips and he grinned in response. I was under him in the next second, lifting my hips up once again to slide off my panties. Eric hopped off the bed and undressed himself entirely, returning to my arms in the next second.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, kissing my stomach and I pulled his face up to mine to kiss him, his hand dropping down to the juncture of my legs. I rolled my hips into his touch, moaning at the sensation and he echoed it, watching me squirm. I moaned out his name and he swallowed the sound, positioning himself at my entrance and meeting my eyes.

I whimpered before finding the words, "Now, Eric." He obeyed before the words had fully formed and pushed in, his rhythm slow and deliberate as he made love to me. My vampire husband didn't have to ask for me to meet his eyes, mine were already glued to his sapphire-blue ones even as I wrapped my legs around his waist. Eric was beautiful, his scent filling me as fully as his body was; I was enthralled by him, gasping when he sped up the tempo and craning my neck to kiss him. A shockingly breathless sound escaped Eric when I bit hard into the soft flesh of his neck and he cried out as he came, my own climax slamming into me with Eric's last thrust. Eric wiped the remainder of his blood off of my chin, murmuring compliments to me as I experienced the last of the aftershocks. Eventually, we made it under the covers and Eric lay beside me on his side, draping one long leg over both of mine. His lips brushed my shoulder and he kissed my ear, neither one of us quite knowing what to say so I closed my eyes and turned my head towards his. Catching on, Eric pressed his lips to mine and stayed there, both of us breathing the other in.

"Eric," I began but he interrupted me.

"I'm honoured that you trusted me enough."

"I trust you more than anyone," I admitted, realizing their truth as the words left my mouth.

"And I you," he murmured and I felt myself blush. His absolute trust was not something I could ever gain; I had never strived for it but in that moment I felt the weight of it settle on me along with the weight of his devotion.

That night, for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep not worrying about anything.


	3. Epilogue

_**Angel of Mercy**_** by PersianFreak**

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Charlaine Harris. Please don't sue.

Spoilers: All 9 books.

Rating: T

A/N: Last chapter. Comments are very much appreciated.

* * *

The bar was the grimmest it had been in all my life.

The various posters advertising Ladies' Night and Fangful Fridays were all taken down, the merchandise corner shut down and its display shrouded with a dark clothe. The tables were covered with plain black tablecloths, candles dotting the room and adding a melancholy feel to the whole place.

As if we needed more sadness.

The mix of Weres, shifters and vampires milled about, easily mingling like a living, not-necessarily-breathing sea of blacks and navies and greys. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes and struggling not to let the tears fall.

"Hey," Liam's soft voice called out and I opened my eyes, burying my tear-streaked face in his neck. "Addy." Though his voice was controlled, I could tell just how bad of a shape he himself was in and I tightened my arms around him.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," I whispered into my boyfriend's skin.

"I know, baby."

"What am I supposed to do without her?"

"Hey," he pulled back and stroked my hair, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. "You'll be okay. I promise you, you'll be okay."

"How is it ever going to be _okay_?" My voice broke, "How am I supposed to get over this?"

He smiled sadly and for the first time I noticed how red his eyes were, "You're not. You're probably never going to get over it; you're sure as hell not going to forget. But at some point, you'll stop grieving and you'll just hold on to all the good things instead of the bad."

I nodded dejectedly and let him hold me again, "My dad is devastated." Liam began to stroke my back comfortingly and I continued. "He wanted to turn her so badly. He thought he had time to convince her and now it's too late." My chin began to quiver once more and I bit my lip in an attempt at quelling the oncoming wave of tears.

"It must be so hard for him," he murmured. "I can't imagine losing you."

I pulled back to press my lips to his, more firmly than I usually did. "I love you."

"I love you too." Kissing my forehead, Liam attempted another smile.

I nodded and felt my lips turning up in the resemblance of a smile. "I should go- I mean, my dad is-"

"I know. Go."

"You'll be okay?"

"I'll be okay. Go, love." I nodded and turned away from him, heading past the table of food and various blood-substitute drinks and to the back, where I found my dad perched on the edge of his desk in his office.

"Addy," he smiled though it failed to reach his eyes. He stood and pulled me into his arms, kissing my hair when I'd settled myself. "How are you holding up, min kära?" I just shook my head and let his cool embrace soothe me. "I know. I miss her too."

"There's too many thoughts out there," I said quietly and he pressed another kiss into my temple. "Daddy, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about?"

"I'm sorry you had to endure... this." I waved my hands around the room, indicating the whole situation. "I know how much you wished you could have turned her, I can't imagine-"

"Addy, above all, I loved her," my dad interrupted me. "It didn't matter that she was mortal. It wasn't what she wanted and I had accepted that." He twisted his wedding ring around on his finger.

"I'm sorry you have to watch me die, too." I choked out and his eyes snapped to mine.

"Don't you dare say that," he said angrily. "Your mother would have hated to hear you talk like that."

"But it's the truth," I continued stubbornly, though somewhat intimidated by his disapproving gaze. "I can't imagine being you, it's just..." I shook my head.

He tilted my face up to his. "I don't regret any of it, Adele. I know you think it was such a horrible thing, and this _is_ probably the hardest thing I have endured so far, but I don't regret marrying her. I don't for a second regret having you." Nodding, I began crying again, letting the tears fall freely when my father pulled me into his arms again.

"I miss her _so much_," I wept, feeling like a helpless child in my dad's arms.

"I know, min kära."

"She would have laughed, you know."

"She would?"

I nodded, almost chuckling. "She survived so much just so she could be hit by a drunk driver."

He laughed, shaking his head, "You two," he made a playfully disapproving sound, "always joking about serious things." The warm look in his eyes made me brighten up as well.

"Are you going to come out there?" I nodded towards the rest of the bar and his eyes darkened again.

"I suppose so." He held out a hand for me to grasp, "Come on, kiddo." I smiled at the nickname that endured despite the fact that I was now twenty-four years old. We made our way back out to the main area of the bar, subjecting ourselves to the relentless stream of people expressing their condolences, some more sincerely than others. Uncle Bill hugged me, eyes desolately empty as he smiled and nodded at my dad, muttering his name in acknowledgement and inquiring as to our well-being.

"We're fine, thank you for asking," my dad responded politely, though his eyes were somewhat cooler than usual. I was aware of the fact that my mom had once been involved with Bill, and that it was through this relationship that my parents had met. She had used to love teasing him about it, saying that he had to be grateful to Bill for introducing him to the only woman in the world who would be willing to put up with him and my dad would always retort by saying she should be grateful she had been saved from a life with Bill. As far as I was concerned, Bill Compton was a wonderful man who had very easily established himself as one of the most-respected men in my life. Uncle Jason was next in the line of sympathetic friends and family, tears streaming down his face and already somewhat tipsy. I could practically read the angry thoughts right out of my dad's head as he clenched my hand a little tighter and nodded at Gilbert, the bartender, to usher Jason to a room in the back where he could rest.

"Pappa," I chastised lightly in Swedish.

"I just don't want him making a fool of himself at your mother's wake," my dad informed me quietly. I took a deep breath and nodded, distracting myself with the rest of my mother's friends and family. Aunt Amelia and her long-time partner Laura were in attendance, as were Alcide and his third wife Jana, John Quinn and his sister Fran, Aunt Tara and Uncle JB, as well as Uncle Sam and Aunt Barb. Aunt Pam drifted about, eyes suspiciously red as she kept an eye on the vampires and Weres, just in case.

"Eric," King De Castro greeted as I was absorbed with Pam, and I felt myself stiffen.

"Your Majesty," he bowed and I curtsied, remembering the disdain with which my mother had explained proper etiquette whilst dealing with royalty to me.

"Please, please," he waved as if we were pals, and I gritted my teeth. "I just wanted to personally express my condolences to you and your lovely daughter, Eric. Our world has lost a great treasure." He sighed sorrowfully and I squeezed my dad's hand, attempting to calm him.

"That's very kind of you," he said politely. "Thank you."

"Of course. I think it's safe to say that Sookie was simply unique. Unless, of course, Adele here has some skills you have kept secret from us?" Here the man raised a brow and turned a gauging look towards me, as if any powers I possessed would reveal themselves to him.

"Felipe," my dad practically growled and I looked at him in alarm: he wasn't going to get into a fight with the man _now_, was he? To my utter shock, however, Felipe backed down.

"A matter for another time, however. I can't stay long, though I presume I will see you in Vegas soon?" Felipe smiled graciously and in that instant, I hated this man who dared express his "condolences" when we all knew the only thing he regretted was not having the opportunity to tie my mother to him forever. I brushed my thumb over the back of my dad's hand, still fearing he would lose his temper.

"Of course," he agreed pleasantly. "Have a safe trip, your majesty."

Felipe nodded in acknowledgment, "Once again, my condolences." The king took my hand and kissed it, his eyes trained on mine as I struggled to hold back from slapping him across his pretentious face. I said my farewell and then Felipe was gone, his bodyguards following him out of the bar. Liam came over in the next second, eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" My dad was pointedly looking away, though he was still holding my hand in his. I nodded and even managed to smile. "He's a dick," Liam whispered and I heard my dad stifle a laugh, sending me a thought.

_ 'This one's a keeper, Addy.'_ I shot him a shy look and put a hand over Liam's mouth.

"Watch where you are," I whispered back to him and he bit his lip, looking momentarily alarmed.

"Sorry," he murmured and put a hand around my waist, holding me as I continued to clutch my remaining parent's hand.

***

The room was absolutely dark thanks to the heavy curtains hanging all the way down to the floor. There were no cracks that let in the smallest ray of the setting sun outside, though a vampire would have no difficulty at all discerning the majestic decor that consisted of heavy leather-bound titles lined on dark, wooden shelves and a heavy mahogany desk with its genuine leather office chair. Picture frames set up on the desk and shelves showed a couple in various stages of their relationship, though one would not be able to tell based solely on the appearance of the man. Even though the woman appeared to have aged only ever so slightly in the time frame the photos portrayed, no doubt the side effect of magic or blood or perhaps even both. Most of the photos featured a third person, their child, her entire life captured from the day of her birth to the present, just over two decades later. She was beautiful, it was clear, and was of the flesh and blood of both the man and the woman, her blue eyes and wheat-coloured hair matching theirs.

On the desk lay, among other typical items, a single sheet of paper of an unusually thick material, crumpled with age and the strain of having been read countless times:

_My dear child,_

_I hope this letter finds both you and your husband well. Believe me when I say I wish it were possible for me to see you, but I fear the risk I have taken in sending you this message is already too great. I hope , however, the gift this letter accompanies is sufficient proof of my affections._

_Sookie, my gift must be kept an absolute secret from all but you and Eric, for I have broken many laws in bestowing it._

_I am sure, having known you, of your great desire to have a child with no other than your vampire. If I am correct and you do, in fact, wish for such a thing, then I will tell you that the tonic I have sent will realize your wish should it be consumed by both you and your husband. I assure you, it will have no negative effects._

_I wish you the happiest of lives, my dear child, and I hope that one day I may be able to see you again._

_My regards,_

_Niall Brigant_

Partly covering the single sheet was a small box of royal blue velvet, inside of which lay an empty crystal flask upon a bed of soft-yellow silk. Nearby lay the birth certificate of Adele Monika Northman, child to Eric Northman and Sookie Marie Northman, dated just over twenty-four years ago, and the copy of an ultrasound image of a child in utero. Attached to the latter was a post-it note, bearing the message "_It's confirmed: I'm pregnant. I'm waiting in my office. I love you." _

At that moment one of the inner doors of the office opened, King Eric Northman of Louisiana fixing his tie as he stepped in. Smiling softly to himself, he began gathering the items into a larger gift box, folding the letter on its well-worn creases and tucking it into the velvet-covered box before letting it join the birth certificate and ultrasound image. Attaching a card to the gift, he wrote the name _Addy_ with his ornate gold pen and set it aside. He then removed a smaller box from a drawer and fastened a similar card to it, scribbling "_Liam, you have my blessings" _and returning the box which contained his late wife's engagement ring to the locked drawer. One hand absently running over the outline of the wedding ring hanging around his neck, he reached out and traced the face of his beloved in the photo on his desk, the matching ring on his own finger catching the dim light that was pouring in through the open inner door. The sound that escaped him could almost have been classified as one of utter desperation, but then he gathered himself, eradicating all signs of his earlier vulnerability just in time to hear the knock on the door.

"Come in," he called, sneaking a last look at the photo.

The ornately-carved main door swung inwards to allow the petite blonde to peek in. "Daddy, you're working in the dark?" She flicked the switch and the room was illuminated, Northman wincing at the sudden transformation. "Ooh, sorry."

"It's okay, min kära," he smiled.

The young woman's expression saddened, "Pappa, you're wearing black again. It's been a month."

Rolling his eyes, he waved off his daughter before his face softened again, "Come here, I have something for you..."


End file.
